


Deal's A Deal

by Baneberry



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 02:03:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14415267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baneberry/pseuds/Baneberry
Summary: Proteus survived, and is now an Autobot. It's not easy, especially when everyone on your own team seems to hate you. It's good that Proteus still has a friend, and a friend in need is a friend indeed.





	Deal's A Deal

**Author's Note:**

> For purple_minnow!
> 
> A semi-sequel to [Shake On It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11455686).
> 
> Basically, summing up, Proteus survives Starscream's attack, becomes an Autobot, and later reunites with Ratbat, rekindling their relationship. Change is in the air.

The Spinel Tower was once Crystal City's most famous, expensive, glamorous hotel and casino. It had two ballrooms and a movie theatre with a stage for either film-viewing or private conferences. It served as one of Proteus's favorite spots to do business. He especially loved the architectural design; giant and fully erect, a dark blue-green that sparkled as if it were made up of diamonds. Rings forming sharp turns up and around the tower containing their more eccentric, cramped rooms for those wanting a unique experience.

Proteus always got the same room when he visited the hotel, either for business or pleasure. Floor sixty-two, room 62-6, facing North and overlooking a gorgeous display of Crystal City from the balcony. Proteus often spent hours simply sitting outside; watching the world he helped to run and control breathe around him. Listening to the lively sounds of the city as he worked or sipped high grade.

Proteus remembered his last night at the Spinel. He'd taken Ratbat with him. They were mourning the passing of their very good friend and colleague, Senator Sherma. They drank and laughed and kissed, until Proteus pinned Ratbat against the balcony and took him from behind, the smaller Senator grumbling and wiggling beneath him, riding back into Proteus's unit. Proteus bit down on a neck cable and sucked. They never looked away from the city below, the city that belonged to them.

Proteus quietly checked the area before emerging from the shadows, out onto the piles of debris and rubble. He walked carefully over the remains of another casino, moving up a hill of steel, concrete, and bent metal rods. He stopped when he reached the top, invented through the cold air and pollution.

The Spinel, once a massive giant with nearly one hundred floors, had been bisected. Its top half smashed and broken all over the road and pavement, glass shattered to millions of little pieces. The rings fallen, turned over, gutted and looted like everything else. Proteus waited a moment--almost sunrise. He did another scan, both land and air; another minute, just one more minute...

Proteus transformed, zipping high up into the air. He reverted back to bipedal mode, optics wide. Despite all the loss and devastation, he couldn't help but smile. The moment sunlight hit all those shards of glass, the area lit up in bright beams of glittering light for almost an entire acre. Blinding, but so beautiful, and they shimmered every time he moved.

Proteus knew he should go back. Instead, the jet transformed again, streaming over the glass, his shadow blotting out the light.

Proteus reverted to bipedal mode, boots touching down on the chunks of a familiar balcony propped upright on a slab of decorative metal that was once a wall. Proteus sat down on the balcony's edge, the sun to his back; easier to view the sparkling field from here.

Here. Here where he'd taken Ratbat to celebrate Sherma's death. Here, where they interfaced, even though neither were quite sure what to call this thing they had between them. But Proteus remembered it, whatever it was--intoxicating, relaxing, fun.

Proteus smiled. It was weak, but sincere nonetheless.

It'd been a while since he last had some free time, especially alone. After nearly dying at Starscream's hands, reluctantly joining the Autobots, and then losing Sentinel's protective shadow... Well, during these dark times, a Senator like him had very little power. He'd been resigned to joining the Autobots as a diplomat, but only when they absolutely needed him. Other than that, it was secretarial work. Not that Proteus wanted to ever be on the front lines. The mighty had fallen, and while he hadn't stayed down, hitting the ground had been excruciatingly painful; his ego was still recovering.

Of course, however, the moment he started thinking about how nice it was to get a break from work, Proteus received a ping on his commlink. Before he could even ask Prowl what he wanted-- Proteus's optics nearly bulged from his skull as he swiftly drew to his feet. A second later, the call ended, and Proteus, in jet mode, took off back to base like a bat out of Hell.

Speaking of bats, actually...

"He won't talk to anyone else," Prowl grumbled, looking through the one-sided mirror into the medbay. Lifeline and First Aid were tending to Ratbat cuffed to a slab. He didn't look damaged--not even a single dent. He wasn't fighting or struggling either, glowering hatefully at the mirror, as if right through the glass and into Prowl's own serious gaze.

"Ya did call Proteus, yeah?" Jazz asked.

Proteus arrived a minute later, running into the room. Before Prowl could pull him aside, Proteus opened the medbay door and walked inside. Ratbat instantly stiffened, sitting upright, optics wide. Lifeline made note of his vitals picking up.

"Proteus?" Ratbat mumbled, shocked.

Proteus blinked, awed. "... Ratbat?" he replied. "It... is you, Ratbat... Right?"

Ratbat snarled. "No," he turned his head, ears pinning back, "not like this."

"I heard what happened. I'm not--"

"I don't want your pity, Proteus!" Ratbat growled.

Proteus exvented. "I won't lie. You certainly don't look your best," he confessed. Lifeline grimaced on Ratbat's behalf. "However, you are still Ratbat, correct? Besides your chassis, has your mind been--"

"Why should I answer you?" Ratbat spat venomously. "Autobot."

Proteus sneered. "You know this," he touched the red insignia on his fuselage, "means as much to me as that does to you." He pointed to the dingy Decepticon symbol on Ratbat's body.

"Are you ready to talk now?" Prowl asked, suddenly appearing.

"I've..." Ratbat paused. He cursed, angrily flapping his wings against the energy restraints.

"Your spark-pulse is very high," First Aid explained, "if you don't calm down, we'll be forced to sedate."

Ratbat hissed. He looked between the medics and Prowl, then to Proteus. His yellow optics dimmed, and he exvented bitterly.

\---

"He managed to free himself from Soundwave's control and escape the Decepticon base," Prowl explained, debriefing the situation with Optimus, Jazz, Ratchet, and Ironhide. "Believing, though without reason at the time, Ratbat was turning on the Decepticons, Skywarp attempted to shoot him down. Ratbat missed the blast, but Skywarp teleported by his side, catching him off guard. A hard blow knocked Ratbat out of the sky, but he was able to recover and flee before Skywarp could retrieve him."

"Who found 'im?" Ironhide asked.

Jazz waved a hand. "He actually found us," he chortled. "I caught 'im followin' us durin' patrol. Didn't put up much of a fight, either. And before he decided to zip up, he told me he wanted t'seek asylum here."

Ironhide snorted. "A coward then, a coward now. I say we throw 'em back out in the streets. Let 'im fend fer himself."

"According to the Political Autobot Asylum Protocol Accord, section nine states we cannot turn an enemy away without reason, especially over personal vendettas or prejudice. Section nine point two states we must interview the captive in a proper investigation that will help us to determine--"

"I don't want that fraggin' oily mechanimal wanderin' around the base freely," Ironhide spat.

"You know, if you referred to someone with a beastial or Onyxian frame as 'mechanimal' back in the Golden Ages, you could be sued or called out for unfair treatment and/or racist, hateful behavior."

Optimus raised his head, watching Proteus emerge from across the room. "Allow me to speak with Ratbat," he insisted, "I understand, given our past together, you wouldn't trust us alone. You may have your bots monitor us. But I sincerely believe Ratbat is seeking asylum from the Decepticons for his own personal, valid reasons--a matter of safety, even fear. It was Soundwave who forcibly ripped out his spark and altered his CNA and coding, reformatting him into a Cassetticon to do his bidding. It is not too unlike Empurata, if you think--"

"Look who's talkin' Empurata so fraggin' casually," Ironhide growled, fingers curling into fists. Ratchet pat him on the back.

"He's gotta point, though," Jazz said. "But I also think he should go. Ain't best havin' these two in the same room right now."

Optimus nodded. "We'll speak privately later, Proteus," he said gravely. Ironhide was grumbling threats. 

Prowl gave Proteus a look that could stop a spark before nodding, dismissing him.

Proteus left quietly.

\---

Ratbat told the Autobots everything. He almost expected to be killed right afterward, but instead they left him restrained in the medbay, plugged to a tube feeding him energon.

"You're looking a lot smaller than I remember."

Ratbat's optics hummed online; he didn't look up as Proteus stepped in front of him. "You're still kissing aft to survive, I see," the Minicon snorted.

Proteus chuckled. "It's good to see you, too."

"Is it?" Ratbat's spark swelled with anger. "At least one of us still has their body. I'm surprised the Autobots didn't remove your head and hands as soon as they pulled you out of the rubble."

"Oh, plenty wanted to, believe me," Proteus replied. He pulled up a chair, sitting in front of the captive Decepticon. "But, fortunately for me, their leader has a bleeding spark."

Ratbat finally met Proteus's gaze, glowering. "What is it you want, Proteus?"

"Your company," Proteus answered bluntly, "I haven't had a decent conversation in... Hell, I can't remember the last time, honestly." He smiled. "I missed spending time with you, believe it or not."

Ratbat didn't entirely believe him, but he couldn't deny the sliver of hope... "I suppose we are the last of our kind," he exvented, "so it's only--"

"Come now," Proteus scowled playfully, "I thought we were more than just colleagues."

Ratbat blinked. "Well... We had a fling, yes..."

"A fling, hmm?"

Ratbat was confused, and a little apprehensive. Proteus couldn't possibly-- "Doesn't matter," he mumbled, wings tucked by his sides, "with this new body, not even I would want--"

"Again, you underestimate me. And you're suppose to be the cunning, brilliant--"

"I so wish you'd stop interrupting me."

"Nothing has changed," Proteus said, sitting forward. He placed a hand to Ratbat's chest. "If you'll let me, I can show you."

Ratbat stiffened. "You're... not implying what I think you're implying?"

Proteus smirked. "Just say no, and I'll go."

Ratbat was torn--part of him did want Proteus to leave, to not look at him in this state. In this body. But the other part, the stronger part, the part that missed Proteus's company, his camaraderie, the part that spent months plotting and strategizing an escape while confined in some maniac's chest compartment, wanted this more than anything else in the world.

Well, except for a new body. It was a tie at this point.

Ratbat exvented again, body relaxing. Proteus understood. His hand slid beneath the Minicon, finding his codpiece. Ratbat hesitated before opening. "It has been... a very long time..." he murmured.

"You think I'd lie with anyone here?" Proteus snorted. "Please. I do have standards, you know, despite the rumors." He gently pressed one finger inside, massaging the anterior node. Ratbat gasped, tensing a second; his wings fluttered at his sides. "Relax. I won't hurt you."

"If y-you're doing this out of pity--" Ratbat groaned as the finger slid in deeper, working up a slow rhythm. He was surprised at just how quickly his channel opened, already fairly wet. He had missed Proteus, but really now, this was a little embarrassing.

"Reformatting really must have done a number on your cognitive skills, my dear 'senator,'" Proteus smirked, gently mouthing one ear-like finial.

Ratbat scowled, leaning into the finger, taking it whole. "P-Perhaps we should both s-shut up, before the m-mood is ruined." He didn't even want to _know_ what the bots watching the security cameras were doing. But so far no one had come to separate the two, so either they didn't care, or Autobot security was much more lax than Ratbat thought.

Ratbat hissed, fangs clenching. Proteus inserted a second finger, scissoring in between thrusts. Slowly coaxing out his erect unit. The Autobot smirked, ever so pleased with himself, as he took the small unit in his free hand. Stroking, matching the rhythm of his two fingers.

Ratbat let out a small cry as he overloaded, spilling into Proteus's hands. He vented, optics glitching. "It... It's been so long, like I said..." he grunted, looking away.

Proteus just grinned, chuckling to himself as he stood and washed off his hands. He returned with a wet cloth, gently cleaning the transfluid and lubricant from Ratbat and the slab. "Well, don't count it as your last," he reassured.

Ratbat tilted his head. He opened his mouth, quickly shut it. No. No more talking. He was tired. He needed the rest. Proteus silently finished washing the Minicon before disposing of the cloth and placing the chair back at the desk. He gave Ratbat one last enigmatic smile (damn him) before leaving, the lights dimming as soon as the doors shut.

\---

It would take time.

Proteus understood that well. He was still dealing with his own problems, trying to fit in and find his place in this new, war-torn world. He wanted nothing to do with the Autobots, or the Decepticons. Maybe Proteus should have died that day. Maybe he should have perished alongside the rest of the Senate, or with Sentinel. But as much as Proteus loathed his current life, he wasn't about to give it up. He survived so far--he'd survive to see this war come to an end. To rebuild society, and return to his former power--even if it would never be the same again.

Proteus visited Ratbat in the medbay, then at the brig for the one night. Once it was determined Ratbat wasn't a threat or spy, the Autobots let him free. Of course, he couldn't move around the base alone, and most of the time Proteus had to have an escort if he wanted to take Ratbat anywhere.

The Autobots still didn't trust Proteus. That was fine. As long as they didn't throw him to the wolves, as long as their leader protected him, he didn't much care for their approval.

Though Ratbat didn't entirely trust him either. Despite the night in the medbay, the Minicon kept an emotional distance from Proteus. But Proteus wasn't stupid--he knew Ratbat was afraid. He knew the former senator wanted to rekindle that old companionship. As friends, as lovers, it didn't matter. Ratbat had been among strangers, enemies for so long--he had to remain guarded and careful. All that time of forced servitude and fear for his life, that Soundwave would tire of and kill him at any moment's notice, had worn Ratbat down.

But Ratbat had played his cards right. He schemed, and he escaped--albeit not as smoothly as he wanted. Still, it was worth the risk in the end.

Gradually, Ratbat started opening up to Proteus. His old personality shining through the wretched body he hated so much. Proteus didn't seem bothered by it, however; not that it should matter, his opinion, but Ratbat was... happy. Happy that Proteus wasn't disgusted by his grotesque... That would be another thing they'd have to work on: this annoying self-pitying.

Ratbat kept to Proteus's side; they became attached to the hip, and got to spend more and more time alone once they proved harmless enough. Often Ratbat would ride Proteus's shoulder as they went about their duties (once powerful senators, now secretaries, puppet figures, and accountants); sometimes they went for flights around the base. And while Ratbat didn't consider anyone else as a friend, he helped and ass-kissed the higher-ups, just as he did the Decepticons. He didn't like any of them, but he did need allies and people to protect him. 

Aforementioned allies were small in number, since most of the Autobots still harbored resentment over the senators. Orion--no, Optimus Prime, was not one of them, but he wasn't so easily swayed and charmed as the others Ratbat had won over.

At the end of the day, Ratbat had Proteus. He couldn't rely on Proteus alone, but it had nothing to do with cold logic. He had Proteus, who he still loved, and who seemed to still love him.

Maybe.

Then Proteus stopped visiting. A day had passed, and usually Ratbat was never seen without his second shadow. Ratbat had been busy with work--paperwork mostly; he tried helping the Autobot's team of strategists, but Prowl had to be their leader, and Prowl didn't trust anyone, _especially_ him.

Ratbat started worrying the second day, when Proteus hadn't returned to their quarters that late evening. Ratbat asked around, even to Autobots he'd never spoken to until now. No one seemed to know, and others just flat out refused to answer or acknowledge him. It was frustrating, and Ratbat was tempted to just go to Optimus Prime himself.

If Proteus had work, had been assigned a mission, he would have told Ratbat. He shouldn't be so concerned. So what if Proteus hadn't said anything? Maybe it was a secret operation? It wasn't Ratbat's damn business anyway. He didn't need to follow Proteus everywhere, after all.

Ratbat spotted his reflection in the glass while gazing out at the wastelands that used to be a beautiful city. A city he helped rule with an iron fist. Rage overwhelmed him, and with a snarl, he flew into the glass, successfully cracking it before leaving the room.

\---

Proteus returned. He didn't need to apologize, because he'd come back with a salvaged protoform and parts to rebuild Ratbat a new body.

Ratbat was... stunned. He didn't know what to say. So he said nothing, and instead watched over the medics and mechanics putting his new chassis together. It wouldn't be an exact replica, no, but it would be good enough. Ratbat made sure they got certain things right, however, but beyond that, remained fairly quiet and neutral about everything.

Proteus knew it was a combination of shock, and anger that Proteus hadn't said anything to him prior. Ah, well, he'd get over it.

It was a delicate operation, placing Ratbat's spark into this new body. Proteus remained on stand-by at all times; he couldn't help but worry. What if Ratbat's spark didn't take the frame? What if the damage Soundwave had inflicted was just too extensive to repair?

While the surgery had been difficult and long, it was successful. A week later, Ratbat was discharged from the medbay, walking out in a body almost like the one he'd been born in, freshly painted in purple and gold. It would take time for him to adjust, but Ratbat was happy with the final outcome.

Except just one little thing.

"You had to make me _shorter_ , didn't you?" Ratbat hissed, walking alongside Proteus through the deserted ruins. "I made it explicitly clear what my former size was, and yet somehow I ended up shorter than before."

Proteus laughed. "What can I say? We're low on materials. You're lucky I was able to convince Optimus Prime to construct you a new body at all." He shrugged. "Besides, you were _much_ shorter in that mechanimal body, don't you think?"

Ratbat scoffed. "Had they stuck to the blueprints..." He stopped suddenly, optics wide. He recognized the remains of the building in front of him.

"Spinel Tower," Proteus exvented, arms folding. He smiled weakly. "A shame it met such a gruesome fate."

"This is where..."

"The last time, yes," Proteus said. He looked down at Ratbat, that smile turning into a leer. "I figured it'd be the perfect place to christen your brand new chassis, don't you think?"

Ratbat rolled his optics. "God, the Autobots have lowered your standards tremendously."

Proteus slowly cornered Ratbat against a wall, once part of the tower. "Is that a no?" he asked, leaning down close, their noses almost touching.

Ratbat sneered. "If my paintjob gets dirtied," he said, grabbing Proteus's face in both hands, "you're paying for a new one." He kissed him, both bots smiling. It was their first kiss since... since Spinel Tower. Neither realized just how much they missed it, until they were practically clinging to one another, the kiss turning hungry and desperate.

Proteus shoved Ratbat back against the wall, hurriedly prying open the smaller bot's codpiece. Ratbat snorted at Proteus's freed erection.

"Missed me that much, did you?"

Ratbat almost squeaked when Proteus thrust a finger inside of him.

"And yet here you are," Proteus hummed, "already so wet."

They kissed again as Proteus pried and worked Ratbat open with his fingers. It felt both strange and wonderful, experiencing these sensations for the first time in his new body. It made his CPU dizzy, vision blurring. He rut into Proteus's fingers, but not for long, both too impatient to drag this out more than necessary.

Though the first thrust inside Ratbat's channel was a little painful. It was a new body, after all; he was "breaking" it in, as it were. Ratbat winced, clinging to Proteus; the jet slowed, waiting for Ratbat to relax and unclench. With hands on the smaller bot's hips, Proteus continued, moving slow and shallow.

"Feels quite virginal, doesn't it?" Proteus teased.

Ratbat groaned, both out of pleasure and annoyance.

Ratbat's knees shook as lubricant spilled down his legs. Proteus picked up the pace, burying half his unit inside Ratbat's channel. But this new body was also quick to adjust, and it wasn't long before Ratbat was taking Proteus to the hilt completely. His vision doubled, and he swore he saw stars--had it really been this long since he last experienced such carnal pleasures? Ratbat felt a little ashamed, so overwhelmed and lost in a haze. He blinked, optics lidded, mouth openly venting. If this kept up, Proteus would have to support and manually move him.

Ratbat clenched his teeth, determined. He bucked his hips, riding into the unit. Proteus growled, sounding equally needy. His thrusts becoming more clumsy as overload approached. Ratbat would be the first to climax--soon he'd build up the stamina to last longer, even with this "young" body. Not that it mattered; he came with a small whimper, hips giving little snaps as he milked out his overload, leaving a mess down his legs, on the ground at his feet.

Proteus waited until Ratbat was finished before continuing at his hurried pace. Ratbat held on, armor rattling against armor. He chewed his bottom lip; sore and raw, but he wasn't going to deny Proteus this. Not when they'd both been waiting so damn long.

Proteus overloaded with a snarl, holding himself inside Ratbat. Ratbat winced, feeling the warm transfluid fill him, coat his already generously wet thighs. 

For a few minutes, the two held one another, venting and cooling down, Proteus flaccid inside Ratbat's fluttering channel. Proteus pecked a corner of Ratbat's mouth; the smaller bot turned his head, took him in a full kiss. They had to break away, still overheated and shaking.

"Really thought... you'd last longer..." Proteus rasped.

"Still adjusting," Ratbat replied. He flopped back against the wall, inventing. "After all, I only just... relearned basic motor functions in this body... a week ago."

Proteus smirked. "I guess that means I'm carrying you back."

"Not what I was implying, but I wouldn't be opposed..."

The pair sat down in the rubble, recalibrating. They watched the sun set over the remains of Spinel Tower.

Ratbat stroked his chin, browplates furrowed. "I think I know what we did wrong," he said, "why the system failed."

Proteus glanced at him, curious.

Ratbat sneered, showing teeth. "Not enough executions."

Proteus and Ratbat laughed, the playful sounds echoing in the emptiness. Maybe they'd learn remorse in the future, but for now... This would do just fine.


End file.
